: Fiona Snyckers
: Trinity Rising
: Jonathan Ball
: 9781868424146
: 1
: CHF 4.90
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 276
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
At last - South African chick-lit with all the wit and charm to hold its own against international bestsellers. 'If I hear the word 'Struggle' one more time, I swear I'm going to strangle someone.' Trinity Luhabe is so OVER the whole Robben Island thing. Sure, her dad was one of the last activists to be imprisoned there, but he's now a billionaire mining magnate. We all have to move on, right? And Trinity is moving on with a vengeance. She's just passed Matric at an exclusive private school, and is all set to take Rhodes University by storm. She's got the looks. She's got the brains (sort of). She's a girl with a plan. Okay, it's not a plan she's prepared to share with just anyone - especially not her feminist, do-gooder mother. Delightfully ditzy, but with an inner core of strength, Trinity parties her way through life. That is, until she discovers that life bites back. And then there's her arch-enemy - the deliciously wicked Sophie Agincourt, who definitely has something evil up her sleeve. Will Sandton's favourite daughter ever find true love, straighten out her priorities, and make it to lectures on time? Or will her career be over before it's begun? Find out as you follow her along the path of true love, self-discovery, and eBay handbags in the first book of the beguiling Trinity Luhabe series.

Chapter 1


OKAY, this isn’t a big deal. I can do this. I am not going to cry.

I am not – repeatnot – going to cry.

All right, he’s walking away now and reaching into his pocket for his car keys. He’s frowning down at the unfamiliar remote, looking for the button that will unlock the rented Nissan Micra parked on the other side of the road. He’s turning his head slightly and giving me a little smile and a finger wave. I can see that he is also blinking hard.

Oh God, I amso going to cry.

I bite down hard on my bottom lip, but this only makes it worse. I hear a noise behind me, and turn to see the warden – Jasmine Something-or-Other – gaping at me in amazement.

‘Isn’t that …?’ She points across the road. ‘That looks exactly like that guy – what’s his name again? He was on the news last week. Abel Luhabe – isn’t that Abel Luhabe?’

I nod my head up and down, still biting my lip too hard to speak.

‘I learned about him in Industrial Sociology!’ She looks totally astounded. ‘What’s he doing here? Do youknow him?’

My lip goes all wobbly the moment I let go of it.

‘He’s mydad!’ I blurt out, before bursting into tears and running back up the stairs.

I bump into a group of second-years on the way up and land sprawling on my hands and knees. My skirt ends up flapping around my ears, for maximum dorkiness.

‘Who onearth … ?’ I hear one of them say just before I leap into my room and slam the door shut behind me.

I lean my head against the wall and take a deep breath.

Okay. That did not go well.

At least I’m no longer crying, but my cheeks are sizzling with embarrassment. That was the exact opposite of the suave, super-cool entrance I planned to make. I was going to be all bored and sophisticated – not start blubbing the moment my father leaves.

I can feel my lip getting wobbly again at the thought of him. I give myself a mental smack on the head and march over to my desk to fire up my laptop. Perhaps there’ll be an email from home. At the very least I can calm myself down by surfing some of my favourite shoe sites.

I sit down and switch on the laptop. It makes a lovely, quiet humming noise. The moment it boots up, I click on the Heatmail icon.

God, this 3G line is fast! Dad was right. Wireless is totally the way to go. I select Inbox and wait eagerly to see if anyone has sent me an em